


yellow and green, do i wait for spring

by richiesheadphones



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Winter fic, also its rated teen for mentions of nsfw and also swearing, but i didnt wanna tag it and clog up their fic tag, fear of commitment baby!!, gay dumbasses in denial, like of snuf and moomin, little my and snorkmaiden r in lesbians, moominpappa is very tired, oh yeah im gonna b doing both povs??, the joxter can and will fuck moominpappa, the mymble fucks to survive, this is my first time writing a moomin fic so expect it to be a little ooc because im baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-03-26 16:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19009582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richiesheadphones/pseuds/richiesheadphones
Summary: Snufkin truly had too many feelings about his visits to Moominvalley.Moomintroll was so kind, and he'd always say the same thing: "Oh, no, Snufkin! I know you need your space to relax! Even if we don't talk at all, that's okay, Snuf, I just like spending time with you, you know."And yet whenever they sat in silence, staring up at the stars, Snufkin felt some sort of need inside him to entertain Moomintroll. A sickly feeling that started in his gut and clogged up his throat like thick mud.Despite his need to get away, this winter he feels something drawing him back.





	1. a strange little feeling

**Author's Note:**

> yo i just got some of the moomin comics and moomin was fucking?? lost as a kid?????? and moominmamma and moominpappa found him out in the sea after he straight up tried to drown himself because he had no family. is that fucked up or what
> 
> anyways this fic takes aspects of canon and also aspects of headcanons and timelines dont match up because its my fic and i get to make the rules
> 
> also i write weird to some people but i like the way i write so!! the point is im havin fun w it

As the autumn leaves fell and the wind blew fierce, a vagabond placed foot in front of the other on the forest path.

 

Leaves crinkled under Snufkin’s feet as he walked on in silence. He could hum a little tune, but the feeling he’d need to do it wasn’t there, and he didn’t suppose it would be for a while. It’s quite hard to sing when you’re feeling blue.

 

He’d just left Moominvalley a few days ago, and, as always, he’d written a letter without saying goodbye to Moomintroll. Oh, dear, sweet Moomintroll; a beast-thing, the Moomin was, with fur covering each inch of his chunky body, and claws that could come out and tear anything to shreds if he so desired to. Of course, he never would- he was much too kind and timid for that.

 

Snufkin often found his thoughts wandering to Moomin on his travels, which both annoyed him (for he should have this time to think of himself, in these cold winter months) and made him anxious (for why could he not stop thinking of him?), alongside a spark of happiness he pushed deep down inside. The winter months were hard, and gathering supplies was always a necessity, so he’d always find an easy way to distract himself from his friend.

 

Luckily, he’d taken some time to map out this area; he’d travelled this way before, and though he wasn’t perfectly accustomed to it, it was a place he’d frequent on his trek. The hemulens in the town had taken to placing signs down warning of a criminal who’d come and steal your belongings in the cold, but Snufkin couldn’t care less. If there’s one thing mumriks don’t quite care about, it’s signs, and the rules plastered on them.

 

The stars were out, but other than that, it was quite dark. Hemulens didn’t have night-eyes like he did, so his robberies were fairly quick and simple (claws, when used correctly, can come in handy for lock-picking). He stole warm winter blankets from the home of a policeman, and a winter getup from a lawyer, and felt that was enough. He’d discard them somewhere to someone who needed them once spring followed through, so they didn’t have to be perfect- just good enough to make sure he didn’t freeze to death at night.

 

_ I wonder if Moomintroll is like a warm blanket, _ he found himself wondering.  _ Perhaps he would be an alternative, if one cuddled up with him. His fur already heats me enough with his hugs. _

 

He scolded himself for thinking of the troll once again, and scurried out of the village as the sun began to rise in the sky.

 

He’d continue jumping from town to town, path to path, meeting new people along his way (but never staying too long, of course, as the winter was his time to be alone, and he truly did need it, he assured himself) and seeing new things. He’d make sure to commit some of the more interesting sights to memory, to enchant Moomintroll with stories from his wanderings. He’d like the story of Snufkin managing to trick a shopkeep into giving up a rather fine herb for the price of nothing, for certain- or perhaps when he’d needed to find shelter in a rather heavy snowfall, and camped under the ridge of a mountain rumoured to be a giant encased in rubble.

 

That had been the last time for a while Snufkin had seen snowfall, as it was high time for him to be getting along to a warmer climate. He’d be glad to start shedding his foolish winter coat, at least; his limbs had started sprouting thick, itchy fur, and his neck had practically grown its own scarf! It was stupid, too, because of his Mymble genes (as he’d found out this summer from Moominpappa, what a shocker!), he didn’t get the fur everywhere, so it was essentially useless in keeping him warm. All it did was make him look like an idiot, which is why he tried to shave off any scraps of it when he returned to Moominvalley. The shedding got rid of most of it, but he certainly didn’t want Little My (his half-sister, how horrid) to get any more ammunition to mock him with.

 

On this specific November morning, sleepily sitting on the edge of a half-thawed river with a fishing pole sat beside him and his cards in his hand, Snufkin was shocked to a start. He’d always trust his cards, as they most usually seemed to provide him with the best option, but what they told him today was peculiar indeed.

 

“How queer,” he said aloud to himself, and no one else. “That makes no right sense!”

 

Go to Moominvalley, the cards had said. He needed to go to Moominvalley, in the dead of winter, where the only creatures he cared about would be practically comatose for at least a few more months.

 

He placed the cards back into his run-down bag with a huff, clearly a bit ruffled. Moominvalley, in winter? No one would be waiting for him, and yet he still felt his usual feelings about the place.

 

Snufkin truly had too many feelings about his visits to Moominvalley. Moomintroll was so kind, and he’d always say the same thing: “Oh, no, Snufkin! I know you need your space to relax! Even if we don’t talk at all, that’s okay, I just like to spend time with you, you know!”

 

Despite this, whenever they sat in silence, Snufkin felt some sort of need inside him to entertain Moomintroll. A sickly feeling that started in his gut and clogged up his throat like thick mud. An anxious and guilty feeling, like he was a rabbit caught in a trap.  _ I’m always letting him down, aren’t I, _ he’d think, and rightly so, because he was.

 

He surely couldn’t go to Moominvalley in the winter, when he was relatively peaceful, and didn’t feel quite as bad about doing things that his nature told him to do.

 

But as he lay down that night, he knew in his heart the cards were right. Something was calling him to Moominvalley. There was something he needed to do, despite how his stomach churned.

 

He just didn’t know what.

 

\- - -

 

Moomin  _ hated _ the winter.

 

_ Perhaps I’d be a normal Moomin if I hadn’t wandered out as a cub, _ he wondered, blinking sleep from his eyes for the eighth time since hibernation. And perhaps he was right- maybe if he’d not gotten lost all those years ago, he could’ve grown up hibernating with the family, and not living a childhood knowing quite literally nothing about what a typical Moomin did. 

 

That was why he was so ashamed, of course. He’d been waking up for years now, in the winter, and at first he’d thought it was beautiful. A layer of white glass covered everything he held dear, untouched and smooth for miles and miles. He’d been afraid to go out of his room at first, from the time Snufkin had confided in him an embarrassing secret of stepping outside to go to the bathroom and falling wasit-deep in cold snow in just his underwear. Of course, Little My had been listening in from the rafters, and she had a field day with that one.

 

Moomin had thought he’d fall right through the snow to the ground, and the snow would close in on him, trapping him and filling his lungs with cold until he couldn’t breathe right anymore. He’d try to call out, but more snow would get in, and he’d just gargle until he suffocated, and no one would find him until springtime, when he’d be long gone.

 

It’s safe to say that particular nightmare kept him from going out for a few days, at least.

 

But eventually, he’d had the brilliant idea of throwing a rock Snufkin had given him from a journey two years prior to that one onto the snow (after all, if it sank, he could just retrieve it in the spring before Snufkin showed up, and his friend would be none the wiser), to see if it would hold weight.

 

There was a bit of fresh snow then, but it only sank a bit- the rest had been frozen solid from all the layers of chill it was tucked under. When he stepped out into the snow, his pawprints left dents in the powder, and his tail trailed behind leaving a mark, and he remembered being upset that he’d ruined the smoothness of the landscape.

 

He could frankly give less of a shit about the landscape right now. 

 

He’d thought, back then, that surely it would’ve been a one-off experience, and that it would most likely be the last winter he’d experience in his life. But that hadn’t been the case, of course, because he didn’t seem to get lucky at all. He’d wake up each year (the earliest he’d woken up was only three weeks into hibernation), and he’d stay awake for the rest of it, in a cold and empty house. 

 

Sometimes he’d remember to keep more food in the box under his bed, and sometimes he’d cave in and begrudgingly eat pine needles. Sometimes he’d go out foraging for food himself, as well as supplies such as firewood, as the ancestor had moved out of theirs a while ago after he’d found a much more suitable place. Sometimes he’d place funny little notes in treetops, always forgetting the snow would wet them, just to see if next winter they’d still be there when the snow piled up high enough to reach them. But one consistent thing in winter was that he was always terribly, terribly lonely.

 

Too-Ticky was usually in their bathhouse, but he didn’t have much time where the snow would be light enough to make such a trek over to her. It was also very embarrassing for him. As stated before, he was ashamed.

 

After all, what good Moomin would wake up each winter? Perhaps he was broken. He couldn’t tell anyone,  _ especially _ not Mamma and Pappa- oh, how upset they’d be, to see the mess of the son they’d raised! Perhaps they’d cast him out, for being such a freak. 

 

No son of ours would ever wake up so much, he was sure they’d say. We must have picked up the wrong Moomin off the side of our boat. This can’t possibly be our son, he’s bent and broken and doesn’t act at all like he should!

 

He knew that wouldn’t be the case, of course, but some dark pit in him told him that it definitely  _ could _ happen, and so he kept it a secret. No one knew at all, and no one ever would.

 

As he looked out his window at an icy world, he couldn’t help himself from wishing that he’d have someone to share this time with. And although he wouldn’t admit it to himself yet, he was wishing for a very specific someone to be here with him, to keep him company through the cold nights.

  
_ That would be cruel of you, Moomintroll, _ he hushed his desires.  _ Snufkin needs his alone time, of course. He should not be here in winter. _


	2. racing in the snow, maybe i'm hopeful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what if you wanted to go to heaven but god said youve been writing snufmin fanfiction instead of doing your work in photography class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not reading over this no beta we die like men

In a sorry turn of events, Snufkin’s winter coat had stopped shedding itself of its thick layers. In fact, it was growing back as his body reaccustomed to the cold of the forest snow, making patchy and itchy spots all over his arms and legs. He found himself scratching all over, and most certainly accidentally cut himself with his claws a few times, but he didn’t quite mind it much, even when he drew blood. Anything to get rid of the itch.

 

There wasn’t just a physical itch bothering him, though. There was a nagging thought in his head that had started as soon as he’d read the cards, and hadn’t yet stopped to give him peace of mind. 

 

_ What on earth could be so important in Moominvalley, this time of year? _

 

Perhaps Too-Ticky needed help- it certainly wouldn’t be easy managing with so many creatures, both visible and not, in such a small bathhouse. Perhaps she’d tell him in that thick accent of hers that she needed him to bring one or two to a new place. He’d protest, of course, but if that was the case (as it had been such with an invisible shrew who had a cold and needed a warmer climate, a few years back) he’d cave in and take it with him. Then he could go back on his journey to the south.

 

A feeling in his stomach let him know that probably wasn’t the case, but it couldn’t hurt to talk to Too-Ticky anyways. He was only a week away from Moominvalley now- he had to admit to himself he’d been rushing, eager to get whatever he needed to do over with- and she’d be awake, working on a horse for the Lady of the Cold as she always did. 

 

_ You could check on Moomin, too, _ his brain told him, encroaching on whatever important thoughts he’d been having before.  _ Just make sure he’s okay. He’ll be sleeping, but you want to make sure he’s okay anyways. _

 

He told his mind to hush, and huffed before he continued on walking again, pushing the thought out of his mind. There was no need to check on Moomintroll. He’d be fast asleep, his paws tangled up in sheets and pillows as he dreamt. 

 

And yet as he walked, his mind had filled itself with thoughts of Moomin, much to his frustration. Some impossible scenarios, stupid little daydreams of floating together on pink clouds and crafting flower crowns in the summer fields. Of going digging for worms to fish- one time, Moomin had pulled too hard, and a thick worm had split in half. Snufkin smiled fondly at the memory; his friend had been devestated, as if he’d committed a foul, unforgiveable act. 

 

_ “It was just a worm,”  _ he had told his friend. _ “It’s not the most enjoyable thing, to split up a worm, but there’s nothing you can quite do now.” _

 

_ “Oh, but Snuf, what if it had a family? Little worm children, it won’t see again! How horrible!”  _ Moomin had cried.

 

_ “Oh, don’t be silly, Moomintroll! The worm children will have two worm parents now, for a worm split in two just multiplies!” _

 

It had been a complete lie, of course- the worm was most certainly dead- but it had comforted his friend, at least, so a little lie didn’t hurt anyone but the earthworms Moomin had tried to “multiply” later, to make more of them. It was a bit gruesome, if he must admit, but Moomin was happy, and that’s all that mattered.

 

He scolded his brain yet again, for only thinking of Moomintroll. Of course more things mattered than just his friend! He had himself to think of most of all, and whatever his trip to Moominvalley entailed, he’d just not go near Moominhouse at all. That way he wouldn’t have his mind filled with thoughts of Moomin. They’d just disappear (which, Snufkin knew deep down, is not how thoughts worked). They’d drift into the air in a peaceful sense, and become one with the stars in the sky, leaving him on his own once more.

 

As Snufkin lay down to rest, he mentally slapped himself, because he knew it was pointless to tell himself otherwise. He was going to Moominhouse, because of the infatuation he’d been stuck with, in a cruel turn of the way life should be.

 

\- - -

 

Moomin laid at quite a high point on the Lonely Mountains, though this time of year it was much easier to near the peak. He clutched a thick, round piece of wood in his paws, sanded down over the weeks he’d been awake. It would make a fine sled; he’d asked the Snork in summer how to make the fastest one. He’d lied and said it was for one of the Hemulens in the valley who wanted to go quickly on the winter slopes, and Snork had bought it hook, line, and sinker.

 

The sky was falling into black, leaving a lovely trail of peaches and yellows in the air, tangling with pinks and purples. A few clouds swept over the valley, and if he looked quite far enough, he could see the roof of his house peeking out of the snow. It was a warm evening (for winter, of course, make no mistake- it was still rather cold!) and snow from last night had settled into a soft dusting. 

 

He’d soon have no time left to slide, for the moon was appearing quickly, rushing the sun out of its comfortable spot watching over the valley. Despite the looming shadows, if he squinted just right, he could see past his house, out to sea. Too-Ticky would be there, cooking a hearty stew as she did most winter nights, playing a jolly tune on that odd music machine she kept. He found his stomach grumbling, and shook out his fur at the thought of going to see her. It had been fine the first time, but no one could know waking up from hibernation was a recurring issue of his. 

 

He placed a tentative paw forwards, looking down the mountainside. From this angle, it looked quite a bit steeper. He wondered if he’d crash.

 

_ Oh, screw it! _ He thought.  _ What’s the worst that would happen? I get chilled fur? Are you a mouse, or a Moomin? _

 

Once he’d settled on the fact that, yes, he was a Moomin, he leapt running onto the piece of wood, immediately slipping forwards at an incredible velocity. He let out a cry of joy as he sled down the mountain, feeling an urge to pump his hands in the air (though he didn’t, for he’d surely fall right off). The sled was going faster than he’d ever gone in his life, sending shining white particles of snow in a v-shape around him. Perhaps if he could see it slower, he’d call it beautiful, but he was plumetting much too fast to catch any details.

 

He curved towards a small bump, and to his excitement, with the speed, it sent him hurtling in the air. Feeling a rush in this season when he was so lonely and down was a blessing- one that would soon be forgotten, as he realized with a start that he was about to land. If he timed it right-

 

He did not time it right.

 

The front of the sled stuck straight in the snow (which wasn’t as thick as Moomin thought, it seemed) and catapulted the troll through the air, sending him snout-first into a snow bank. He yelped, struggling to remove his large nose from the cold. It took only a bit to get unstuck, but his nose had already turned cherry red from the chill, and snowflakes were sticking to his fur, making his nose water and eyes tear up. The snow was much too cold, now, Moomintroll decided, if it was doing this so quick.

 

If one were to look from an eagle-eyed view over Moominvalley, they’d be able to see what would apparently be a sled moving by itself, trailing a thick line in the fresh snow. Moomin blended right in as he dragged it behind him back to Moominhouse.

 

About an hour later, as he sat in bed, his nose running, he felt almost as if he should’ve ignored his whole self-preservation mess and just gone to Too-Ticky’s. He could really and truly go for a warm bowl of stew right now. But alas, it was much too late, and snow had started falling outside in thick clumps, and so the sick Moomin tried to rest for the night, hoping against hope that this time he wouldn’t wake up until spring.

 

\- - -

 

Snufkin’s paws trembled as he removed the cards from his bag. He was close to Moominvalley now, much too close for comfort, and he found himself looking constantly at the cards, hoping they’d tell him that he didn’t actually need to go to the valley. But each time, they simply told him the same thing.

 

He didn’t know why he was in such a fuss about heading back, or why he was so anxious. Perhaps it was that he’d never been here in winter before- maybe he was upset at the thought of coming back to no one at Moominhouse greeting him. It was so out of the ordinary for him to be here now, and he didn’t quite like the fact that his winter trip had been thrown out of order so abruptly. He let out a shaky breath as he placed the cards back in his backpack. It was upsetting him more than he’d like to admit.

 

He’d always stuck to this schedule, for years now, at least, and he liked it that way. Stay for three seasons, explore the world in the winter. It never really changed, not really- of course, he’d sometimes leave early, or come back a bit later, but he’d never arrived during winter. 

 

He wondered for the fourth time that hour about whatever could be waiting for him, but was shocked out of his trance at the campsite as a screeching blur flew by on the Lonely Mountains. Perhaps it was one of the Hemulens out, but it was still startling. If it’d been a logical thought, he could’ve sworn it sounded like Moomintroll.

 

_ He’s not going to be awake, that’s foolish,  _ he frowned.  _ Stop being so hopeful he’ll be here for you. Let him rest, and let yourself get some time alone. The sooner you get out of here after your business is done, you’ll be back on your way. No sidetracking, and no pining. _

 

He’d go to bed now, he thought, and in the morning he could decide if it was even a good idea to head into the valley. As hard as he could hope he’d just be able to turn back (the feeling was strange to Snufkin, this anxiety of being here when no one was awake), the cards were dead-set on something, and he wouldn’t be able to get peace of mind until he found out what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is panquadrant PLEASE hmu in my askbox and ask me abt stuff abt this fic im so thirsty for attention
> 
> also yes moomin did spend an afternoon ripping worms in half because he thought theyd make more. hes a little confused but hes got the spirit


	3. eye to eye in the doorframe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they Meet Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sees i havent updated this fic in a month* and i oop-

Snufkin’s nerves weren’t exactly doing the greatest, in this moment.

 

His heart had picked up beating once he’d woken the next day, packed up camp, and started walking. Even with the snowfall of yesterday, the patterns in the snow were unmistakably trails leading to Moominhouse. With the weather, the cold was almost indistinguishable from that caused by the Groke, and he felt a twinge of anxiety at the thought of her freezing the Moomins while they slept.

 

The next upsetting thing was when he’d misjudged the depth and solidity of the snow. It varied from part to part, but the spot over the river seemed to be softer than the rest, and he had plunged down through the white cold. He didn’t break the ice all the way, but he could still feel the chill of the river-water seeping through his shoes and pants- even up to a bit of his chest. He’d have to change into some spare rags while he dried himself tonight.

 

On the topic of tonight, he’d considered staying the night in Moominhouse for an evening, just because of the river incident. They slept through quite a lot, those Moomins, and he was sure they wouldn’t mind, whether they knew or not. Perhaps he could borrow a blanket to cover himself in as he let his clothes dry near their fireplace.

 

Well, whatever decision he made in relation to his sleeping place, staying at Moominhouse would require him to enter it, bringing the scenario to nerve-inducing incident number three. He’d walked a fair bit, and while he dragged his boots through the snow, he’d expected the trail to let up eventually. But instead, he found himself looking deep into a hole that led to what he assumed was the front door of his friend’s house. It was rather large, and looked as if it had been clawed out. 

 

_ It would be awfully dreadful if a wild animal had gotten in, _ he thought.  _ Perhaps that’s why I’m here- the cards have brought me to protect Moomin. _

 

Wet feet, then wet legs, then a wet boy slid down the hole. He let out a soft grunt as his bottom hit what was either the wood deck or a thin sheet of ice, and placed his hand tentatively on the doorknob.

 

_ If it’s a wild creature, I mustn’t cause a ruckus, for it’ll notice me, and I can’t help the Moomins much if I die before I even get a chance to protect them. _

 

His breath caught in his throat as the doorknob turned without his paw moving it.

 

\- - -

 

Moomin could have sworn he was hallucinating. What is one to think, when they come face to face with something so strange? He shut the door as soon as he opened it, slamming it in the man’s face.

 

It was as if someone had fused his best friend with the hair-creature from the movie about the creepy family that Little My had forced him to watch one night. 

 

_ Is it a mimic, like from Pappa’s stories? Has a bug taken control of Snufkin’s body, and it’s eating him from the inside, and the hair is just growths, like that weird fungus and the ants? Oh dear, oh dear!  _ Moomin thought, his mind racing.

 

A stunned silence passed between the boys on each side of the doorframe, before Moomin heard a call from the other side.

 

“Moomintroll? Is that you?”

 

It was certainly Snufkin’s voice, albeit a bit more raspy, which reassured Moomin’s fears about body possession or evil doubles, but caused a whole new set of worries to rise to the surface of his brain.

 

_ Oh, what will he say? How would he even react? Why is he here, even? No matter, he’ll most definitely feel as though I’m a freak if I let him in! A Moomin, out in winter? Foolish! _

 

“Moomintroll, my dear friend, I feel as though we might have things to discuss, but at the moment, I must admit I’m a bit chilled,” Snufkin’s muffled voice spoke through the door.

 

“Oh! Yes! How stupid of me, I’m so sorry!” Moomin opened the door before his thoughts could remind him of the fact that he should be anxious. “Come- come in!”

 

Snufkin-but-hairier stepped into Moominhouse, and the first thing Moomin noticed besides the excess fur was that his friend seemed absolutely  _ drenched. _

 

Apparently he didn’t hide his gaze well, because Snufkin found it easy enough to follow to his soaked clothes. “I fell into the river. I planned to heat up here overnight while you all slept, but… I suppose that plans will have to change, now.”

 

“Lots of plans seem to have changed,” Moomin remarked. “You should, uh… I’ve got some old clothes that I’ve grown out of that would probably fit you. You can undress in my room- if you’d like, of course! Just, you won’t get any warmer in damp clothing…”

 

His friend smiled (though one would have to pay close attention to the slight way the sides of Snufkin’s mouth tilted upwards, Moomin had become accustomed to it), a bit awkwardly. “Thank you. I suppose it’s better than huddling naked under a blanket I’d stolen from your cabinets, or such.”

 

Moomin did not, absolutely did  _ not, _ let himself think about Snufkin naked under a blanket, for that would be rather embarrassing, and entirely inappropriate. Instead, he led the way to his room in a heavy silence, presented Snufkin with the old pyjamas, and went downstairs to start a fire in the stove for some soup.

 

Easier to talk about strange subjects when you can disguise your awkwardness in a sip of stew instead of speechlessness- and the two most certainly had a strange subject to speak of.

 

\- - -

 

It wasn’t hard for Snufkin to realize why the cards had told him to return to Moominvalley, now. He still wasn’t sure of the specific reasoning, but Moomin being awake in winter was definitely a certifiable large-scale event, so part of the mystery was solved.

 

He slipped his arms into the jumper Moomin had given him, pulling it over his head and placing his hat on after (luckily, it hadn’t gotten wet). The fabric was woolen and slightly itchy, but he could tell it would be easy to become accustomed to, and it was quite warm. It was a light blue, with a pale yellow “M” stitched onto the middle of its chest- he could faintly remember My sewing letters onto the sweaters Moominmamma had knitted for everyone, complaining about how they’d hardly differ, with so many family members and friends having names that started with the same letter. 

 

He stuck his furry legs through the green pyjama pants of varying shades, and found they had a slot in the back for a tail, which he decided would be best to use (he’d usually keep his tail in one of his pant legs, but nothing’s worse than having extra wet fur stuck to your leg and causing chafing). When he grabbed his soggy boots in his paws, slipping down the stairs, he could faintly smell burning. “Moomin?”   
  
“Oh! Snufkin! Sorry, I was trying to cook for us both, but you know I’ve never been the best at it- oh.” 

 

Snufkin shuffled awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen as his friend stared at him, looking a bit flushed. “Is something the matter, Moomintroll?”   
  


At his words, Moomin seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, and quickly turned towards the ruined soup. “Oh, no, of course not. Uh, here’s your portion, though you might have to add a million spices if you want it to be edible.”

 

Snufkin let himself chuckle as he placed his boots near the fire to dry before walking in and sitting down at the table. “I appreciate the effort, at least.”

 

With those words, the room became tense once again, and this time Moomin broke the silence, fidgeting with his tail as he looked down.

 

“Well, Snuf, I suppose we’ve got things to talk about, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so exams r done and schools over for the summer so hopefully ill update this more but?? also its 12am so if there are typos im sowwy. again my tumblr is panquadrant and please ask me abt this fic im horny for questions!!

**Author's Note:**

> aye i forgot to mention in the first note but heres my hc ages for the main gamers:
> 
> moomin is 17, snufkin is 17, snorkmaiden is recently 18 and little my is 19. sniff is 16 hes baby
> 
> also my tumblr is panquadrant.tumblr.com hmu!!!! also please leave comments they feed me


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